New Spells
by Raineisahuman
Summary: Bellatrix Lestrange and Hermione Granger have a fateful encounter. T for slight language


Bellatrix Lestrange stood; wand arm raised, and briefly closed her eyes. In front of her was a Victorian style manor, home to Ashley and Thomas Clearwater, the Muggle relatives of a half-blood witch who had recently graduated from Hogwarts. Behind her, waiting on her orders were Avery, Nott, and Stern.

She breathed deeply of the still air, and felt a cruel smile distort her features.

Those Muggles would serve as a good diversion from the monotony of what she referred to in her head as "Death Eater activities numbers one through five:

Hiding

Groveling,

Smirking,

Wincing,

And also,

Sleeping.

Almost lazily she murmured "defuego" and lit the shed in the little backyard on fire. Ah. First spell of the night. She heard the anxious fidgeting of the men behind her and knew that they were eager to start, far more eager than she was.

She deemed it time to begin. She swung open the front door to the manor with a bang and strode in, her mind on her task. She absently noted Avery was already screaming curses outside at whatever Muggle was curious or just plain unfortunate enough to be outside at the moment.

Bellatrix blinked slowly, allowing her eyes to adjust to the change of lighting. Dark had been falling outside, but this Muggle home was lit very brightly on the inside, but with no candles in sight. She turned her head from left to right, taking in the room.

A large open room-the parlour, it must be- a tall shelf lined with strange, still photographs. One, two, three…Four closed doors, a set of stairs, and a kitchen table, complete with confused Muggle woman standing at the stove.

"Who-who are you? Why are you in my house?!"

Pathetic. What a stupid little creature.

"Shut your filthy mouth." Bellatrix drawled. With a flick of her wand the woman flew backwards a foot to collide with the marble counter.

She gasped, presumably in pain and shock. The dark-haired woman looked to be in her midthirties, and apparently was unused to being thrown across her own kitchen.

Bellatrix didn't care.

"Who else is in the house, woman?"

She looked up warily upon being addressed.

Bellatrix rolled her eyes. This woman was slow, yes, and undoubtedly below Bellatrix in the scale of things, but this wasn't the first time she had considered letting a target go. This thing was just so pathetic that Bellatrix wondered why she even wasted her time on killing these people.

Loyalty, she supposed. She had sworn herself to Voldemort as a faithful servant soon after school, way back when it had all seemed so necessary.

There were so many problems with the wizarding world. Mudbloods and incompetents staffed the Ministry. Dark witches and wizards were stereotyped and looked down upon, and then the last staw for her had come when those bloody nitwits at her school had the nerve to say that people like her were prejudiced.

Bellatrix had been determined to see the cultural revolution through. Let the Mudbloods go to Muggle schools, she didn't care about them. She just wanted them out of her world, not dead. The Ministry would be re-staffed, with people who cared about the things that she did instead of the current trend of idiots that were so easily bribed.

It hadn't happened that way. Her lord had proved himself to be merely a charismatic nutcase out to kill everyone who blinked. However, it was no wonder that Bellatrix stayed in his service.

For one reason, malcontents ended up dead. Two, she had given her word.

She sighed theatrically as Nott came through the door behind her. Here she was, ten years later and still disappointed with the turn of events.

"Cruciatus." Dispassionately she watched the woman writhe on the tiled floor, eyes rolling uncontrollably and spittle flying out with her agonized screams.

She heard Nott laughing behind her and derision rose in her throat like bile. What an incompetent brute, to truly be amused by this spectacle. He had to have seen its ilk a hundred times.

This was nothing. Now, a duel would be a different story. Bellatrix shivered. A true fight for your life, a clashing of skilled opponents was infinitely more amusing than the torturing of a plebian.

But orders were orders.

"Nott, check behind those doors. The husband was supposed to be here as well." The Muggle woman looked dismayed, close to tears hearing this. She averted her eyes and motioned Nott across the room. He went slowly, seemingly unable to tear his eyes away from the woman who was now convulsing in silence.

Bellatrix ended the spell and glided nonchalantly to the rows of strange pictures. She heard strangled gasping begin as she casually perused the photos of happy-looking muggles.

"Oh, that one's the half blood brat" she mused. The girl in question was holding a prefect's badge and grinning.

Ugh. Spare me.

Hmm. Several smiling children, an older man, …and a pretty twenty-something brunette Bellatrix thought looked a bit like herself as a teen. She flipped that one over to read the label.

Amalie Clearwater, graduation day.

The heavy breathing had calmed in the other room by now. Time to go back to work. She turned on her heel, wand outstretched and a curse on her lips-and dodged. She was face to face with a teenage girl with a stern expression and a wand pointed at her.

"Protego" Bellatrix screeched. The bright red ray of a stunner deflected off of her shield as she scrambled back. That brat had been completely silent-had she taken another second to turn around Bellatrix would have been stretched out on the carpet, all ready for a trip to Azkaban.

She rolled across the floor to take cover behind an armchair. She leant around it to bellow a quick "Sectumsempra" and abruptly realized that she knew this chit.

"Well, well, if it isn't the brainy third of the Gryffindor half-wits. It's so odd to see you out by yourself, did Weasley and Potter get lost in the bathroom again? It's so unusual to see you by your lonesome, Mudblood, that I'm afraid I don't know quite what to say."

No answer. Strange that. Most Gryffindors would have indignantly charged out (most likely wandless ) screeching incoherently, blinded by rage after being verbally abused. Well, this one appeared to be a bit more intelligent than the average moron.

She'd have to try something different. Bellatrix straightened up and got a look at her opponent. "Cruciatus." The girl, Granger was her name, side-stepped quickly and twisted her body to shoot a beam of pale blue silently. Bellatrix twirled out of its path and took running steps to force her wand up to clash with the girl's in a brilliant show of hot white and purple sparks.

Granger looked contemplative. Bellatrix bit her lower lip as her wand arm began to tremble. This was a bit irritating. She had the nerve to look so blasé about this fight, and it made Bellatrix want to hurt the brat.

Bellatrix twisted to the side to free her arm, letting Granger stumble forward from the sudden lack of resistance. Bellatrix swung her foot through the girl's and twisted in a circle to plant her other foot on Granger's back, as she anatched up the girl's wand. her own wand extended to Hermione's jaw.

"Bellatrix! Let the girl go."

She looked up, surprised. She hadn't heard anyone coming. Who could possibly…

Oh, goody. "Well, if it isn't the friendly neighborhood werewolf."

She leered at him.

"Come to save the day?"

Lupin merely smiled mildly and fired a blasting curse, forcing her to leap back. Granger stumbled to her feet, looking shaken as she stared at Bellatrix.

"My wand- give me back my wand!"

Bellatrix widened her eyes in mock surprise. "Oh, this old thing?"

She rolled it between her fingers. "You're practically a Muggle, it's not like you need it." She held it loosely by both ends. "On that note…" She snapped it. "Oops."

Granger recoiled, holding her side as if in physical pain.

"Hey!"

"You can't"

"pick on our"

"little Hermione."

Two red heads bobbed down the stairs, Nott floating uselessly behind them, gently spinning and repeatedly hitting the walls.

Avery and Stern burst in the house. The two Weasleys looked at each other, odd grins distorting their features while Lupin traded hexes with the newcomers. The twin on the left pulled a slippery-looking green potion out of his belt and cheerfully flung it at Stern.

The fragile glass shattered. Almost immediately a peculiar look drifted over his face and Stern's arms inexplicably turned into flippers.

Bellatrix stared. "That's an odd function for a potion."

The boy who had thrown it smiled toothily at her. "It's one of our originals, only works on someone with a dark mark. This little beauty of a charm was also designed with you dears in mind. Since you people apparently like picking on toddlers and such, it was a near necessity. Civbytiant chloro!"

A yellow mist stormed out of his wand, wrapping around the Muggle in the kitchen, Hermione, and bursting silently up the stairs and out the window in a fantastic show of light. Hermione gasped "It tickles!" in a surprised tone and blinked seemingly out of existence.

The cheerful explanation went on "They're in a safe house. Someone will have to fetch them out, but they'll be fine."

His twin raised his wand gleefully. "My turn. Discolarum!"

Bellatrix didn't have time to duck the orange ray and watched dumbly as it sunk into her chest. She didn't feel any different-until she tried to inhale. It felt as though a pillow was where her lungs were supposed to be. Red sparks danced in front of her eyes as she saw Lupin and one of the twins finish off Nott. The other boy-where was he? Somehow it didn't seem urgent, she just wanted to sleep…But there he was, reaching for her wrist, most likely to apparate her away.

Wordlessly, she snarled and thrust her hand into the pocket containing the cool, faceted surface of her emergency portkey. She swirled away into darkness and silence, thudding lightly into a dead faint on the carpet of her own home.

S little later, back in that Victorian house lined with old pictures, Fred cursed. That woman had escaped, and would no doubt recover quickly in order to be back at maximum annoyance level. He grumpily tore through the family photos on the dresser in an attempt to figure out who the target had been. His eyes widened. "Oy, George! Isn't this Percy's old girlfriend?"

George scampered over for a look. "Looks like her, and-what's this? Looks like her hotter cousin!" The two exchanged devious looks.

One hour and a half ago

Hermione leaned back in her kitchen chair to glance up at the clock on her wall. Two seventeen. It was past two, and she was still dreadfully behind schedule on her summer potions homework.

She tapped her fingers on the table and stared fitfully at the half-completed essay unrolled in front of her.

What WERE the properties of Rosemary again? She leaned across the table for the textbook, hoping to scour it for information, and caught sight of a faint red glow. She fumbled to pick up the otherwise innocuous looking pebble she and Professor Lupin had enchanted a week ago at the start of summer vacation. It was now pulsing with an ugly maroon glow.

"Bugger!"

She exclaimed, standing up so quickly that she knocked over her chair. She stumbled over the strap of her bag on her way to the door. She could feel her pulse in her throat as the pounded up the stairs to her bedroom in her Muggle home. There, she snatched her wand off of the bedside table and plunked the stone onto a specially prepared piece of parchment.

As she watched, words in red ink bled from the stone, to write out:

Breach.

1619 Roston, East London.

Ashley and Thomas Clearwater

Cuciatus.

Cold horror stole over her upon reading that last word. The spell had been designed to detect magic of any kind. She had been hoping that the explanation was more along the lines of Penelope had magicked a tea cozy into a cat or something equally harmless.

There was no doubt now in her mind that this was a Death Eater raid. Hermione fished her old D.A. coin out of her pocket and tapped it with her wand at the same instant that her mouth was forming the incantation "Expecto Patronum."

Her familiar little otter twisted in the air to meet her eyes. "Tell Remus Lupin there's a death eater raid in progress, and the closest apparition point is number sixty-five."

The silver figure barreled with ease through her wall and out of sigh. She got to her knees and flung open the box of emergency potions from under her bed. She quickly grabbed two bottles of blood replenishing solution, a vial of skelegrow, and a dreamless sleep aid. She shoved them all in her jacket pockets. She stood up and, with a firm grip on her wand, apparated.

She reappeared silently in a neat little kitchen. Hermione fell to her knees and crawled quietly to the still body of a middle aged woman on the floor. She checked for a pulse. The woman was alive.

Hermione slowly rose to her feet and caught sight of the woman on the far side of the parlor, seemingly observing the family photos. The brunette was slim, with curled tangles whisping prettily around her head.

This was Bellatrix Lestrange.

Hermione's mind blanked for a moment. This woman was incredibly dangerous. How on earth was she going to hold the woman off until Professor Lupin came? That is, if he came at all. What if he didn't get the Patronus, or was unable to leave? She also had no way of knowing if any of the D.A. would answer the summons. She could be completely on her own.

This needed to be taken care of quickly, if Hermione was to have any chance of surviving. She knew she did not have anywhere near the older woman's experience or ability. That was without taking into account the likelihood that Bellatrix was not the only death eater here.

She raised her wand. She'd cast this one silently, to avoid alerting the death eater. Stu-

And that horrible woman swiveled around, eyes locking onto Hermione's-

"Pefy!"

"Protego!"

She blinked away the bright light and caught a glimpse of Lestrange diving behind the furniture for cover. Hermione cast a leg-locker curse and sprang away from the answering "Sectumsempra".

Bellatrix stared at her for the briefest of moments, looking oddly unnerved, and fell to her knees behind the lazy boy.

Hermione's mind was working overdrive. She had already determined that the Muggle woman, probably Mrs. Clearwater, would be alright, but that was only if Hermione could do her job. It would benefit no one for her to die here. Lupin would be getting her Patronus right about now, but she had no idea if he could come and if he would bring help.

She needed to keep a clear head.

Hermione blocked out the sounds of Bellatrix's taunts, choosing instead to settle into and athletic stance and steady her wand hand. She lifted a moving shield up and around herself to bounce back most basix hexes.

It was a good thing too, because Lestrange had popped up like the most malicious sort of daisy, arm outstretched. Hermione lunged to her right as "Cruciatus" was leaving her opponent's lips.

She twirled mid-step in order to keep her balance. This had the added affect of allowing her to swish her wand with enough momentum that Bellatrix was barely able to avoid her blindness hex, and she had regained her footing when Bellatrix leapt at her. Hermione's wand came up to meet Bellatrix whose wand was burning through the air at and down-and-angled swoop to clash mid-strike.

Hermione put her weight behind her push, forcing Lestrange's wand down, and down, and- Bellatrix turned to the side, and a startled Hermione lost her balance, stumbling forward as Bellatrix kicked at her ankles and forced a foot onto the small of her back as Hermione went face-down into the carpet.

Hermione's wand clattered uselessly onto the tiled floor, just out of reach. Lestrange absentmindedly swiped it up and pocketed it . Hermione felt the tip of the madwoman's wand pressing into the underside of her jaw.

Hermione caught her breath. So this was it then.

"Bellatrix! Let the girl go."

Relief clouded her mind and she barely heard what Bellatrix snarled out. Professor Lupin had come! He was a good dueler, certainly good enough that Lestrange would be forced to get off of Hermione, and then she could help duel the death eater! …Oh, no. Her wand.

Sure enough the weight left her back. She jumped to her feet as quickly as she could, looking her former opponent in the eye.

"My wand." She said calmly. "I need my wand, now."

Lestrange looked surprised. "Oh, this old thing?"

Hermione's wand. There it was, dancing between the slim, pale fingers. Her eyes transfixed, she couldn't even look at Bellatrix's face.

"It's not like you need it."

Then Hermione's eyes did snap to those shining black orbs.

"On that note, Oops."

Horrified, she watched as if in slow motion those beautiful fingers meeting, half of Hermione's wand in either hand. A sharp stitch rent her side, and then her world erupted in pain. For once in her life, Hermione boiled over in anger, and hurt, and thoughts of all the spells that she might never cast again. A part of her had just died, she knew.

She fell to her knees, still staring at the two slivers of wood now laying on the ground. She mindlessly gathered them, on hands and knees, hugging the pieces to her chest.

Gone, gone! Inwardly she sobbed. She glanced upwards again, towards that awful woman staring up at-Fred and George?

George's eyes met hers, and she saw him raise his wand and shout something she could not understand. A thick sunshine fog wrapped around her, settling into her skin with a warm, dry feeling. Thickly she exclaimed, "It tickles!" and blinked again to find herself somewhere entirely different.

Two days later, Hermione slouched against the counter in Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes. Ron was working at the moment, since it was summer vacation. However, she wasn't in town to see him.

Hermione looked morosely at her new wand. She had gotten it just today in Diagon Alley. It didn't work for her the way her old one had. Olivander had assured her that this was the next best match for her, but this holly wand was temperamental at best.

The item itself was longer than her old one. It shuddered when she used it for some of her favorite charms, thought Olivander had assured her that would fade. It seemed eager to be used for spell darker than she was prepared to do.

Lupin had theorized that such a wand had selected her because when she went into the store to get a replacement, she was angry, hurt, and imaging horrible things happening to Bellatrix Lestrange. The wand chooses the witch after all, and the wand attracted to these emotions was undoubtedly different than her mild unicorn hair original wand.

The wand would, in theory, obey her more totally when her anger faded or when she felt vindicated about the incident in question.

She had done her best with it. The first thing she had done with it when she left the shop was to head over to Grimmauld place and convince Remus to help her put some advanced charms on it. After an hour or so, the two had managed to make it fireproof, impervious to summoning spells, and bound it to her magic, making it difficult for someone she disliked to use it.

It wasn't enough. Hermione was still hopping mad. If only Lestrange wasn't such a coward, she would crawl out of her hole where Hermione could hurt her.

She sighed, leaning her head against the cool counter top. She straightened hastily when she remembered where she was. She had no doubt that the twins would try to prank her once while she was here. They seemed to think it was the best way to cheer her up, after the confrontation the other night.

Overall, the rescue attempt didn't go that badly. The two injured Muggles and Hermione had all been transported away to a safe house by a spell Fred and George refused to share with her. The woman had been Crucioed into unconsciousness, and would be twitchy for quite a while to come, but there was no permanent damage.

In addition to this good news, Fred, George, Mr. Lupin, and Seamus Finnegan had all come to the scene and captured three Death Eater. The only one to escape had been Lestrange.

And that ticked her off.

She looked up at Fred as he came back from the back room, holding a caramel latte for her.

"Thanks." She took it. "How's business been today?"

He snickered. "Can't you see for yourself? It's deserted." He gestured wildly. "So, of course, if we don't have any big clients, ickle Ronnie can handle the register."

"I bet he love that."

Fred nodded his head enthusiastically. "Oh, yes. He just loves dealing with the masses. Why, just the other day, he got to help some of his school buddies. He was most excited."

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "You tricked Crabbe and Goyle into thinking this was a baker again, didn't you?"

Fred shrugged. "Some people say I like to make trouble. My take on it is that if the brand new dragon hide boots fit, then, why golly I may as well wear them with pride."

"Right."

They both jumped as the bell over the door rang. Fred smiled. "Customers, Ronnie!" He shouted.

"I know, I know", came from the back.

Fred turned back to face Hermione again and his eyes strayed over her shoulder to look at something behind her. "Hermione!" He whispered urgently. "That girl, I've seen her before."

Hermione turned to look at the newcomer. She raised her brow at Fred. "So? She's pretty, but I don't know her."

Fred didn't smile. "No." He said. "I mean, I've only seen her picture. I saw it at the Clearwater's house before."

Hermione did a double take. "Really? She doesn't look like Penelope that much. Some relative, I guess. Let's go see what she wants."

Fred nodded urgently. "We don't want her talking to Ron. He isn't to be told about the incident last week. Dumbledore's orders. No one who wasn't there can know."

She pulled on his arm. "Ron, never mind." She called over the rows. "We've got this customer."

They reached the confused looking woman. Hermione held out her hand. "H. Granger, here to help you."

Fred leaned in to her. "We seem to think you look familiar. Perhaps you are not here merely to shop?"

The woman paled. "I assure you, I don't know what you are talking about."

Fred looked at Hermione for help. She rolled her eyes.

"What he means to say is, Mrs. Clearwater has your picture. We were wondering if you were here with a message from your family."

The woman visibly relaxed.

She extended her hand to Fred. "I'm Amalie."

"It's nice to make your acquaintance." Hermione said briskly. "So, you don't have a message?"

"No, no. I just heard from Auntie about what happened. She was impressed by one of the spells that you used. She said that someone transported everyone who wasn't in condition to help fight to a safe house. I was curious, because I figured that the first thing our friends would have done was ward out portkeys and apparition."

Hermione nodded in agreement. "Yes, they did. The spell used was one of this guy's creations." She said, jerking her thumb at Fred.

"We have many interesting products. Such as this one." He produced a spray bottle from his pocket and squirted the startled woman. The electric blue liquid disappeared upon contact with her, and the color faded into her skin. A moment later her hair had started changing colors, ending literally on a rainbow array.

He continued. "That one's just for fun. Don't worry, it wears off in a few days."

He leaned in. "If the transportation interests you, you should check out these candies. He led the little group to a display in a brightly lit row. "If you eat one of these, they take you to a certain location."

The woman raised her brow, clearly impressed. "That's amazing."

Fred smiled. "Maybe you should try that red one there", he suggested slyly. "it has some interesting charms in it to restrict usage. I'm sure you would be interested."

Amalie looked at it dubiously. "Well, if you insist." She reached out, unwrapped it, and chewed slowly. She swallowed with a smile. "Yum, Strawberry."

She then disappeared with a pop.

Fred's eyes widened in shock, and he stumbled back, exclaiming "Shit!"

Hermione looked at him oddly. "Why were you so surprised? You just said what the thing does."

Fred shook his head slowly. "Remember those charms restricting usage that I talked about? She shouldn't have gone anywhere, because the standard spell to lock in the location is cast at the register when we ring it up. It prevents thieves."

Hermione blinked, puzzled by the amount of insight and logic in this idea. "So, I guess you messed up on that one." She offered gingerly.

Fred looked at her, clearly angry. "No Hermione. I said the standard spell is locked in at the counter. All of these have an added precaution. The idea behind them is mostly in the case of Death Eater attacks. If you eat one, you can escape faster than the floo would allow, without screaming out your destination. So, we also made it impossible for anyone with a dark mark to go the standard destination if they managed to get a hold of a candy. Meaning our friend Amalie was a Death Eater."

Hermione inhaled sharply, shocked. "But, isn't Amalie from the Muggle side of Penelope's family? The Death Eaters would never take a Muggle."

Fred looked grim. "Think about it Hermione. Obviously the De's would want to know how we managed to get around their wards. What Death Eater would know about that though? I wasn't under the impression that they communicated very much, and only one D.E. from that attack got away."

"Bellatrix Lestrange." Hermione breathed. "She was looking at the family photos when I came in. That must be how…"

Fred grinned ferally. "Hermione dearest, isn't there a fabulous chance that she has no idea that she wasn't supposed to be launched locations unknown. There is also a wonderful possibility that she came here for information on how to get around our spells, and maybe even hints on the location our out friend who is Harry?"

Hermione felt malicious glee rising up in her. "It seems so. After all, she did go a certain amount of trouble to assume a shape we would trust at least a little. " She met Fred's eyes.

"Perhaps…" He said cautiously. "Perhaps, we should go give her answers to all of her questions."

"Perhaps I should be the one to do it." Hermione continued. "After all, I am notoriously well-behaved, close to our Harry friend, and everyone knows good girls don't tell fibs very well. I would be the ideal target to someone looking for accurate information."

She followed Fred at a brisk walk to the back rooms. The two completely ignored George's quizzical looks and the horrendous smelling smoke whipping violently around the cauldron he tended. Fred pulled open a drawer and scavenged about for a piece of parchment.

He found the one he was looking for and unrolled it, all business.

"Strawberry, she said?" He inquired mildly.

Hermione nodded surely.

He let the roll snap together again. "Our dearest friend Amalie is in the Amazon rainforest, just north of apparition point number 17 of the third level."

Hermione smiled. "I'll help her get home. It might take a while to make it to the nearest town, so that we have a reference point to apparate."

-

-

Hermione grimly wiped some sparkly powder off of her blouse as she adjusted her feet to a steadier position. She'd ended up with one foot in the ditch.

"Amalie? Amalie!" She hollered.

From in the trees to her front she heard a distant "Hermione? I'm coming over there!"

Hermione mentally recorded this discrepancy. She had never told "Amalie" her name. She smiled. That just about proved it. Her new wand vibrated excitedly in her hand. Oh, this would be fun.

-

Hours later, that very same day, Bellatrix Lestrange stood before her Lord, wearing only a sombrero and a scuba suit.

She was excitedly communicating her new information at the top of her lungs. For some reason, her Lord just didn't want to believe that the Snorkacks were coming to aid his cause, armed to the teeth with "finger lickin good Kentucky chicken buckets of doom". He also didn't want to take her warning of the "jiggler jello wards" the stupid muggleborn had confided were the only defense for Harry Potter.

-

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Hermione Granger laughed herself to sleep.

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.I added these because I jsut hate how it looks when the last line is at the bottom of the screen. This was written for a contest, and I own nothing of the above. I do own the pretty picture I made to go along with it, however.


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